


If You Kill Me

by nonbinary_incubus



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bruises, Choking, Dark Will, Dubious Consent, Gunplay, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Strangulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinary_incubus/pseuds/nonbinary_incubus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham confronts Hannibal with a gun, as in Yakimono. But this time, Hannibal gets him to take it much further. The gunplay this fandom deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Kill Me

“If I am the Ripper, and you kill me, who will answer your questions?” Hannibal breathes, “Don’t you want to know how this ends?”

Will cocks the gun and puts It to Hannibal’s temple. His hands are shaking.

Hannibal turns his head away, exposing his neck. His eyes flutter closed. He swallows for effect. He waits.

The gunshot _cracks!_ and his ears are ringing now.

Will had fired the gun just inches from his ear, into the refrigerator behind him. 

Hannibal appears pleased.

Will grabs him by the neck with one hand, and pushes him against the fridge, hard. He’s choking Hannibal, he’s pushing the gun hard into his temple.

Hannibal chokes out some words.

“Will, is this what you want?”

“I want my life back, Doctor Lecter,” Will growls. He pushes deeper into Hannibal’s throat.

Hannibal can’t breathe, or speak, and his face is deepening red. His eyes betray nothing. He looks calmly, evenly, at Will. His lips part slightly.

Will parts them further with the tip of his gun. Hannibal complies. He will play this out. 

Will jams the barrel into Hannibal’s wet mouth until the tip hits the back of his throat. Hannibal’s colour is so deep now, and still he shows no reaction at all. His face is calm, his body is still. He hasn’t made a single sound.

Will tightens his grip on Hannibal’s throat and slams his head into the door. Hard enough to see stars, and again. And again. Hannibal takes each slam as a gasping, wheezing breath. He wonders about the toxicity of gunmetal. It’s not something he’s had to research before, and he decides it would be safest to avoid long-term exposure to his mucous membranes in the meantime. He doesn’t want to ingest too much without understanding it.

Will stops bashing Hannibal’s head into the steel door of the refrigerator. He takes his hand off Hannibal’s throat, and fists his hair. Hannibal gasps for air around the gun. A long trail of drool hangs from the corner of his mouth. Will stares at it while Hannibal catches his breath.

Suddenly, Hannibal has Will’s wrist in a vice grip. He’s pulling the gun out of his mouth now.

Hannibal’s lips are red, wet, and swollen. The tip of the gun is dripping. 

Will winces from Hannibal’s grip on his wrist. He tightens his hold on Hannibal’s hair.

“Keep your dirty gun out of my mouth, Will,” Hannibal pants. His mouth is left open. Will jerks Hannibal’s head back. He spits hard, directly into Hannibal’s mouth.

Hannibal swallows.

Will can’t feel his fingers anymore. It is getting hard to keep a grip on his gun. 

Hannibal reaches up with his other hand and takes the gun from Will. He keeps his grip tight on Will’s one wrist.

He lifts the gun to his own head. His finger rests on the trigger.

“Is this what you want, Will?” Hannibal asks, making unbroken eye contact with Will. “Kill myself before I kill again?”

Will stares now at Hannibal’s mouth.

“How did the gun taste, Doctor Lecter?” Will can feel himself getting hard now. He grinds his teeth. He quirks a sneer, “How did _I_ taste, Hannibal?”

Hannibal darts his tongue across his lips. He releases Will’s wrist.

Will lets go of Hannibal’s hair. He takes a step back and clenches and unclenches his right hand by his side. 

“You don’t want me dead, Will. You want to have power over me. But a gun means nothing without the intention to follow through. It means less, even, than a knife. A knife has function aside from its ability to take life. But what is your gun?” Hannibal walks to the counter, placing the gun gently down. He turns to look at Will. He slowly drags his thumb across his wet chin until his thumb carries a huge bead of saliva. 

Will watches closely as Hannibal sucks the spit off his thumb.

“What do you want, Will? What can I give you?” Hannibal’s voice is rough from Will’s hands. Bruises are blooming on his neck.

Now, Will is on Hannibal. He trips Hannibal and brings them both to the floor. He straddles his thighs and pushes hard on both shoulders.

“You can’t give me anything!” Will’s eyes are blazing wide, “The only thing I want," he gasps, "is something I have to take.”

Hannibal makes a show of submission again. He doesn’t resist Will at all. 

Hannibal moans softly, to see how it affects him.

Will is painfully hard. His hips twitch slightly. He touches Hannibal’s cock through his pants, to find that Hannibal is entirely soft.

“Will?” Hannibal asks, “Is this sexually motivated?”

Will doesn’t move his hand.

“No.”

Hannibal’s cock twitches. 

“That’s base, Doctor Lecter. Sex,” Will cringes, “doesn’t enter into it.”

Will can feel Hannibal’s every reaction.

“You will never be free of me, Will.”

“That’s not what I want. What I want, Doctor Lecter,” Will leans over Hannibal and moans into his ear, “is only to be free.”

Will palms his own cock through his jeans. He thrusts into his hand and moans loudly and unevenly. His breath hitches.

He stares at Hannibal’s mouth.

He his sliding up Hannibal’s body now. He straddles Hannibal’s face and undoes his pants. He’s pressing the tip of his cock to Hannibal’s lips, when Hannibal drags his tongue across it. Will lets out a huff of air. Hannibal takes him into his mouth.

Will braces his hands against the floor, and ruthlessly fucks Hannibal’s mouth. 

He’s not big enough to make Hannibal gag, but Hannibal does it anyway.

Will knows Hannibal is faking it now, has been the whole time. He knows that with his cock in a cannibal’s mouth, it’s not him who is in control.

Hannibal could bite down any time, and _oh God_ he’s so close now. Is it more insulting to Hannibal if he comes _in_ him or _on_ him?

Will decides he wants to see the look on Hannibal’s face, so he pulls out of his mouth. There’s an obscene wet _pop!_ as he does so.

Will stands up. He puts one foot on Hannibal’s chest and leans over him. He’s fucking his tight fist furiously now. 

Hannibal’s eyes still shine brilliant, but are slightly glazed.

“Are you trying to degrade me, Will?”

“Fu-uck you, Hannibal,” Will stammers out.

Hannibal opens his mouth. And Will is coming in streams now. It’s coating Hannibal’s lips, hitting his closed eyelids, getting in his hair and on his shirt. Will makes little hiccupping sounds. Hannibal hums, warm and content. He’s wiping up come with his fingers, capturing and tasting every drop.

Will watches this, and gags.

He stumbles to the counter and picks up the gun. He turns to point it at Hannibal, but he isn’t on the floor anymore.

Suddenly, Will is being choked from behind.

“Put the gun down. Now,” Hannibal whispers into Will’s ear.

The front door is knocking. Loudly.

“Hello, police! We’re investigating a gunshot heard in the area, can you come to the door?”

Will places the gun back on the counter. Hannibal turns him around in his arms. Will looks at his neck, where there is now heavy bruising.

“Stay here,” Will warns him.

“Of course.”

But after Will has dealt with the cops, Hannibal is gone. Will picks up the gun from the counter and puts it back into its holster.


End file.
